Naturally Pale
by Shostakovich
Summary: So maybe Lisette's hopeless. And depressed. And nicknamed a ghost by her loving brothers. But at least she's pretty. Rewrite of Beached.


So this is a semi-rewrite from _Beached_, a story I wrote in 2007. It's wholly unneccessary to read _Beached_; don't feel obligated. Seriously.

This is a Phantom of the Opera story, based on mostly the novels by Gaston Leroux and Susan Kay. I have to say, Kay's version actually made me cry— veeeeerrry rare for a book. It's usually the movies that get me. So all the material belonging to Leroux and Kay doesn't belong to me.

Original characters and plot do belong to me.

_Note_: To those of you who have read _Beached_, this **will** be different. I know this first chapter (apologies for the shortness) looks very similar to the first chapter of _Beached_, but there will be significant differences in all the other chapters. Sorry again.

_Another note_: Please enjoy! I highly encourage constructive criticism. Fawning is nice, too, though. I have no problems with praise where it's due.

_And another note_: Feel free to check out my other stories... the ones I'm working on right now are almost exclusively X-men: The Movie, but don't let that discourage you.

Thanks, and enjoy!

* * *

_Evening, 12 September 1875._

The two girls leapt over the puddle, in synch like some twisted Yom-tov dancers. They were pretty girls, one tan and brown-haired, the other pale with darker hair. They laughed happily, singing Yiddish quietly in the dusk, as the sky breathed pink hues to the clouds.

Up ahead was a pair of men, comfortable in black suits, coats and hats. Their conversation was lost in the sea air, and unheard by their daughters.

"I have great hopes for the new year, Reb Carlis."

"I as well. I must say, we've been very lucky this year."

"Hopefully the luck will carry over."

"For you, it well may." Reb Carlis smiled slyly at his friend. "I noticed more than a few of the boys paying Lisette more attention than usual."

Reb Leblanc laughed. "She's grown up to be very pretty, I must admit. She was plain when she was younger, but now— It's very amazing. One day she was a regular girl, the next she was a beautiful young woman."

"Does she look like her mother?"

"Not so much. More like my mother, I must say." Reb Leblanc smiled at Reb Carlis. "Yvette was getting quite a bit of attention, too."

"She's only fifteen, Paul."

"She looks older than she is."

"She is still a child."

"Not physically, my friend. She is very well favored."

"She's very dark," Reb Carlis objected.

"And it suits her well! She spends her days under the sun, David, what do you expect her to look like? Certainly not like Lisette. Good heavens, the boys call her a ghost constantly."

"They're none of them as dark as Yvette. Caroline is much paler, too."

"Caroline is much less exciting."

"You mean more feminine."

Reb Leblanc laughed at that. "You do not appreciate your youngest, mon copain, and you should. She's your last chance to be a good father."

"Paul, keep your rude opinions to yourself."

---

Yvette Carlis and Lisette Leblanc spoke of similarly stimulating topics for girls their age.

"Oh, Lisette, he's so handsome. And he couldn't keep his eyes off you! I swear he'll come calling at your aunts before the week is out!"

"He's not that handsome. It's just his big eyes."

Yvette's jaw dropped and she paused before skipping ahead of her friend. "Bernard is almost as handsome as your brother!" she declared.

"Which one? Pierre?"

"Non, bête, Louis! Good heavens, his eyes are so blue, and he's so tall," Yvette gushed. Lisette rolled her eyes. "Oh yes. Well, Bernard, too, is very handsome. Très beau. He's nice, too."

"Good for him."

"Good God, Lisette, how can you not be interested in anyone? You're so pretty, but you don't appreciate men!"

"Yvette—"

"And you've always been a romantic," Yvette finished.

"Just because Bernard doens't interest me doesn't mean no one else does."

Yvette arched her eyebrows. "Really."

"Really! There _is_ someone, you silly goose. Just not anyone you know."

"What?!"

"You know the comte de Provence?"

"Not personally. You mean— his son?"

"Remy," Lisette nodded. "He's the most wonderful person, Yvette— he's kind, and he loves me."

"He's not Jewish," Yvette said. Lisette shrugged. "You can't seriously be thinking of marrying him."

Lisette huffed and looked away. "We don't know. We know we can't get married now, and in my case it's unlikely ever to marry him."

"You're not eloping, then?"

"Of course not!" Lisette laughed.

PCHIOUW.

A gunshot rang out. Yvette opened her mouth and turned to Lisette. She lifted a hand to her collarbone and a thin line of blood dribbled out of her mouth.

Lisette screamed and stumbled away. "Aba! Aba!"

The two men came running, and Yvette's knees crumpled. She coughed, and blood spilled down her front, staining her cream-colored bodice.

"Yvette!"

Reb Carlis gave a strangled cry and fell to his knees before his daughter, clutching her.

Lisette's father, a doctor, quickly circled around to look at the wound blossoming blood on Yvette's back. Lisette stood transfixed and horrified a few paces away, her face whiter than before and her pale blue dress dotted with ruby red stains.

A gurgling arose from Yvette's throat and Reb Leblanc stepped away from her, his shoulders slumped. He shook his head before Lisette could ask what was going on.

When the rattle stopped, Reb Carlis's tears started, and he buried his face in his daughter's hair.

Yvette's blank, doe-colored eyes looked at Lisette without blinking.

Lisette stared back. She could not look away.

---

Reb Leblanc followed his daughter's transfixed stare to Yvette's glassy eyes. He tenderly pushed down her eyelids and Lisette turned away, shoulders shaking.

"Lisette?" Reb Leblanc set his hand on his daughter's shoulder but she shrugged him off. "Lisette."

She pushed him away before he could embrace her, hiked up her full skirts, and dashed away along the beach. Her father watched her go before turning back to his friend and then leaving to find someone, anyone, to help them.

---

Lisette stood out in the water, her voluminous dress spread around her, floating around her knees. Her satin slippers were forgotten on the sand, and her toes curled with chill.

"Remy, where are you?"

She closed her eyes to keep her tears from rolling down her cheeks, but they did anyway.

At the sound of a horse clopping through the water, she smiled, eyes still closed. "Remy."

Arms wrapped around her, but she realized the length, the height was wrong.

"Remy?"

When no one answered, she opened her eyes. A cloth covered her mouth and she gasped.

Then she fainted.


End file.
